


Tattoo Blues

by WinJennster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/pseuds/WinJennster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's new anti-possesion tattoo is a big pain in his ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoo Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of my early pieces, more stuff being moved over from ff.net.

"Why the hell does this shit always happen to me?! Why isn't yours all skanky and infected?!" Dean Winchester poked at his swollen chest again. "Yours heals all nice and pretty and mine looks like a pussing sore on a demon's ass! I ain't gonna get any kind of action with this mess!" Sam Winchester looked up from his laptop sitting on the table in the small motel room and sighed.

"Is this supposed to be my fault in some way? Did I infect your tattoo Dean? Oh, wait, let's see…I followed the aftercare instructions and you didn't. Hmm, maybe it is my fault." Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, sarcasm dripping heavily from his words. Dean leaned closer into the mirror, studying the angry red swelling that was his new anti-possession tattoo.

"No way man. That dude had it out for me. Probably did it on purpose. Sure, _you_ get the hot blonde Kat VonD look alike. I get the creepy old man with the wrinkled Valkyries on each arm. And she was hitting on you and you walked away dumbass!" Dean shook his head, once again silently lamenting his brother's apparent lack of skill in the "getting laid" department. "Dude you had her the minute you shucked your shirt. What a wasted opportunity. You could have at least had a good time and then told me about all her 'hidden' tattoos." He waggled his eyebrows at his brother.

"I seriously doubt your continued poking is doing it any favors. I can go get some antibiotic cream tomorrow if you want. Probably oughta put something on it."

"Yeah, probably. Hope I don't get a bad infection. Shit," Dean exclaimed, his eyes wide, "I could get blood poisoning! I could die from a tattoo!" He rounded on Sam, his eyes terrified. "Don't let me die from an infected tattoo Sammy!"

"Dean, you aren't going to die from a tattoo! Don't you think you are overreacting just a bit here?"

"I don't know! How are you supposed to act when the tattoo designed to _SAVE YOUR LIFE_ is actually _FRIGGIN KILLING YOU_?!" Sam dropped his head to the table and lightly banged his forehead a few times. Straightening up, he snatched Dean's keys off the table and stood up, grabbing his jacket off a chair.

"Fine! Fine! I will go get the damn antibiotic cream even though it's the freaking middle of the freaking night and then I will freaking come back here and shove it up your freaking ass if it means I might get some freaking sleep!" Sam stalked to the door, yanked it open, marched out, and slammed it shut as hard as humanly possible.

Dean stood thinking for a second. Then he ran to the door and yanked it open.

"And bring me some pie bitch!"


End file.
